Brilliance
by Riza A
Summary: They created the monster under the bed and all he has to do is play the part. When something is weak and sickly, it is destroyed: that is the way of nature. They are the sickness, and Itachi is the cure. [ItachiSasuke][Companion to 'After Effect'.]


**Author's note:** In this fic, Itachi teeters on the edge of insanity and a frightening form of genius. That should tell you all you need to know. Things may be disjointed and confusing because of that, since I want to get across the mixture of both.

This is a companion fic to my other ItaSasu oneshot, _After Effect_. If you'd like to go and check that one out first, feel free. But they can be read independently with no problem.

**-Oo **

* * *

Brilliant, brilliant, _brilliant._ You're a genius, Itachi. You can go so far in life. You are a prodigy, the future of the great Uchiha clan. 

Brilliant, brilliant, _fucking brilliant._

He was, wasn't he? He was smart, capable - the perfect ninja and the perfect Uchiha. But time was running out. Everything around him was singing it, screaming it, bleeding it. _I have to do something. I have to have a purpose, but what is it?_

Time was running out for Uchiha Itachi, and he didn't know why. He didn't know what was at the end, what would happen when the metaphorical hourglass ran out of sand, but he knew that it was coming. The Sharingan sung to him now, a deep, melodic, dirty little tune with words he couldn't quite hear yet. But he knew that they weren't happy, optimistic, bright, _brilliant_ words.

These were words that weren't fit for a genius, a prodigy, an Uchiha. These were words that wanted to eat you up and suck you dry and spit you out and never let you go and turn you around and around in your head, pushing you down and down, and time was running out, and what was going to happen to him -

Sasuke called his name then, voice high and bright and full of _youth,_ and Itachi looked up and smiled, because he wouldn't have time to smile later.

Soon, oh so soon, time was going to run out.

* * *

Sasuke likes to train with him. Sasuke is obsessed with him. Sasuke, his foolish, beautiful younger brother, is hopelessly attached to him. 

And Itachi likes it.

No.

Itachi _revels_ in it.

The feeling is foreign and new and wonderful, and completely different from anything he's felt before. Which isn't a surprise, since he's been raised without feeling. But now he has _power_. He has power because Sasuke gives it to him. Because Sasuke loves him and Itachi feels for Sasuke. In those little moments when the boy's eyes twinkle with understanding, when his little mouth opens in a joyous laugh, when he frowns, petulantly, as he is denied something.

Itachi realizes, quite early on, that he will never let Sasuke go.

Because Sasuke is his connection to everything he'll never have.

* * *

"Are you sure you should let him do this, Fugaku? He's still so young, just barely twelve, how will killing another human affect -" 

"Are you questioning me, Mikoto? Itachi is a strong boy, a fine warrior, and an extraordinary asset to the Uchiha clan. If he doesn't start working soon, with his level of intelligence and power, people will start wondering. We can't have that, Mikoto."

"Yes, you're right. I just hope he'll be all right. Killing another person, even if it's for a mission…it's -"

"Why are you worried? Our son is a genius. He'll take this in stride, just you watch. He'll set an example for Sasuke. Maybe that will get the little one in gear, aye?"

* * *

They've always talked of him like he is something other than human; something to be revered and respected and congratulated, but not loved. Never loved. Occasionally, when his hands clench involuntarily, his breathing grows harsh, and his heart rate escalates, Itachi wonders when he started to hate them. 

And why it feels so good.

* * *

His first kill is bloody and smelly and wet and cold and _screaming;_ why do they scream? Why can't they stop screaming; he can hear them, don't they know that? He can hear them, and it won't make even a hint of a difference, because this is what he has been _ordered_ to do. He has to follow orders, he has to obey. 

Why?

_I am a genius,_ Itachi thinks, sliding steel through flesh and feeling the burn of blood across his cold hands, _So why do I follow? Why don't I lead?_

His target, an older man with graying hair and watery eyes, dies slowly and with a gurgle. He whispers curse words to his last breath, and then relaxes with finality into death.

For a moment, Itachi wants to follow him.

But then he is cleaning his blade and returning to his team leader to give his report of success. Always success.

Dead eyes watch him all the way home.

* * *

His mother wakes him in the morning, because it was agreed that he would be allowed to sleep in after his first real mission. To Itachi's surprise, he actually takes advantage of the sleep and doesn't wake at the crack of dawn. To Itachi's surprise, he actually sleeps. 

It is almost normal, that morning, waking up to his mother bringing him a light breakfast in bed. It is almost normal, watching her smile as she plays with his long hair, jokingly teasing him about it. It is _almost normal,_ as he smiles back, and allows her to pull him into a light hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Itachi," she says, running a soothing hand along his back. "You've grown so much. It's hard to believe. Now, let me take this away for you, and you can get cleaned up and come on out to the kitchen. Your father and I -"

'_think you're worthless, you good for nothing piece of shit'_

"-want to give you something, and are you all right, honey? Itachi, what's wrong?" She backs away, looking at his face, at his wide, almost frightened eyes.

"What did you say, mother? I missed it." Itachi calms his heart, his breathing, his mind, his rage. Certainly, certainly it was a trick of his mind. It has been playing a lot of tricks, lately.

"I said that your father and I want to give you something. Itachi, darling, do you want to stay in bed a little bit longer? You're looking pale."

"No," he breathes, mind whirling. "No, I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment, okay?"

* * *

The sword that they give him is fouled with blood by that night. His target was a seventeen-year-old girl with eyes like a tiger. 

He dreams of cutting into his parents and taking back his childhood.

_They stole it,_ something whispers.

"I know," Itachi replies without thinking.

The Sharingan laughs.

* * *

Sasuke hates him. He knows this, and he can't figure out why it feels so _right._ Sasuke hates him because of the clan. Sasuke hates him because of his father. Sasuke hates him because Itachi is better and brighter and older and bigger and has father's attention. 

Itachi hates Sasuke because he is young and small and strong and pure and kind and _innocent._

And Itachi hates the clan because they want to mold Sasuke into what _he_ is now. And he can't have that. Sasuke doesn't need the voices that whisper and pollute and destroy. He doesn't need to be splashed by the blood of a kill. He doesn't need this, he doesn't need it, doesn't _need_ it.

So now, Itachi makes Sasuke focus on him. Focus on loving him, hating him. If Sasuke thinks only of him, then maybe he won't hear the voices. If Sasuke thinks only of him, then maybe he'll be too busy to feel the slid of steel through flesh, grating bone.

But Sasuke is pulling away. Sasuke is pulling away, is being _pulled_ away, and his mind is closing in.

His sword shines in the noonday sun, and the Sharingan sings.

* * *

Shisui is part of his plan. _Plan. He has a plan now._ He must have known this earlier, before it started, before his brilliance - _was there a before?_ - manifested, or else why would Itachi have befriended this older boy? He must have known even before _knowing_, what was necessary to gain forbiddenamounts of power. Forbidden not only for the human sacrifice involved, but because it would make him more powerful than even the legendary Sannin, and that lures him in. 

Sasuke taps bashfully on the door, but Itachi turns him away, too absorbed in the forbidden scroll. He can't even remember where he got it. Does it matter anymore? These lapsing memories and black stretches of time? No, not really.

He'll do it tonight, he decides. He'll do it tonight, and Shisui will be happy for him. Happy because he'll be purging this stagnant, failing clan.

It's only nature, he thinks as he walks to the bridge where they had agreed to meet.

After all, it is the job of a predator to keep the population healthy and in check.

And the Uchiha clan was sickly. They needed to be culled. And they wouldn't _all_ need to be erased. Some had promise. Some had a chance to become something more.

They had all unwittingly created the beast that would slay them.

* * *

The horror in his cousin's eyes as he casts the genjutsu is disappointing. He has even taken the time to explain to him. To tell him _why_ this needed to be done, how he would be _helping_ in the long run. But still he had tried to run. Yelled that Itachi was crazy. Screamed that they would find out. 

When the illusion is complete and Shisui stops moving, Itachi gently topples him backwards off the bridge and watches him sink, unmoving. He gave him peace for his last moments - flowers and laughter and butterfly kisses, and eventually a deep sleep. His cousin wouldn't feel a thing.

It was the gift that Itachi would give him for helping. For helping him acquire what was necessary for nature to progress.

Mangekyou activates and the Sharingan takes on a whole other tone, and instantly the plan falls apart.

He doesn't need _any_ of them.

He doesn't _need_ any of them.

But he knows that he _wants_ Sasuke, and they are taking him away.

The suicide note that he writes is a delicious lie. He signs it _Shisui_ but that doesn't matter because it's in _his_ words. He decides to throw in a hint, a foreshadowing of the cleansing that is about to take place, and as he writes he remembers the old man with greying hair, and the girl with eyes like a tiger.

_I'm sick of missions._

You bastards have been _using me._

_At this rate, Uchiha will have no future, and neither will I._

Soon, you'll all be gone. You can't drag me down with you. You can't escape, either. I am your savior, and the Uchiha clan successor.

_I no longer walk down this road._

Because I am _more._

_Shisui_

Itachi

Mangekyou screams, and Itachi laughs.

* * *

It's so _easy._

Necks are broken, heads are crushed, hearts are punctures, lungs are deflated, legs are snapped, arms are broken, spines are twisted, organs are sliced.

The children scream.

The women cry.

The men rage.

They all die.

He saves his parents for last, and waits for Sasuke. Because Sasuke is part of it now, and through the delighted hum in his mind, he remembers adoring eyes, and a brilliant smile.

And he remembers hatred.

Wiping the blood from his face and watching the red moon from the window, Itachi waits for the future of his clan. Itachi waits for his death.

Because the only way to make the Mangekyou Sharingan stop singing is to die.

And Sasuke is the only one he'll allow to kill him.

* * *

//End//

* * *

When you review it makes me want to buy you ponies and candy and rich, plush bedspreads. 

Why?

_It's a secret._


End file.
